


Kissing the Sun

by wife27



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Crowley (Good Omens), F/F, F/M, Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female Crowley (Good Omens), First Time, Genderswap, Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Pining while fucking, Sex Worker Crowley (Good Omens), Virgin Aziraphale (Good Omens), ineffable lesbians, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24050281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wife27/pseuds/wife27
Summary: Crowley is a female sex worker in 1950’s London. She’s content with life, until she meets a female client that she can’t get out of her mind.Update: Chapters 3,5, and 7 now have amazing art from @marmalaje (find her on ig)
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 141
Kudos: 324
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in London during 1950’s. Lesbian relationships weren’t illegal, but they were taboo and stigmatized. I’ve tried to make this accurately reflect the attitudes of the time, so please let me know if you feel something should be corrected. 
> 
> All of the sex parts will start with and end with a " ******** ", so you can skip over them if it makes you uncomfortable.

Doing sex work had never bothered Crowley. She was good at sex, and she had always been taught that if you’re good at something then never do it for free. It paid for a decent flat and her art supplies, and that’s what really mattered. It also helped that she didn’t find any of her clients remotely attractive, it kept things from getting messy. Men were fine as a concept, but she’d never want to find herself in a long term relationship with one. 

She had just finished rebraiding her long, auburn hair into a single plait when Dagon knocked on the door. “One more customer for the evening and then you’re done”.

“Perfect.” She couldn’t wait to go home and take a long, hot bath. Maybe she’d even break out her new paints to experiment on the canvas she’d just purchased. “Anything I should know?”

“Yeah, actually,” Dagon paused, “It’s a woman.”

“What!?” Crowley rounded on her. “Do you know how much shit we’d be in if they found out we’re servicing women? The city is already trying to criminalize brothels, and you want to put a bigger target on us?” 

Dagon rolled her eyes. “There’s no laws against her being here, and I know you don’t mind being with women.” Dagon gave her a conspiratorial look, “Plus, you wouldn’t believe how much she’s paying.”

“Does anyone else know about her?”

“No. You’re the only other queer, so I figured you’d keep your mouth shut.”

That was true, she would keep her mouth shut. The legality of female relationships did nothing to stop the hostile public attitudes. The threat of being deemed mentally ill was enough to keep most women in the closet. Of course, that wasn’t why Crowley was single. She was just a loner by nature. Yes, a girlfriend would be nice, but she was fine on her own. She had friends (well, a friend) and went to Gateways to fulfill her physical needs when she felt like it, though it had been awhile. 

Obviously this woman was too afraid to hit up a lesbian bar. Would it really hurt to show her a good time? Maybe this could be nice… 

“Just how much more is she paying?”

“Triple your normal rate.”

“ _Triple_?” She started reapplying her lipstick. “Should have led with that, Dag. Give me a minute to get ready and send her in.” 

Crowley removed her silk robe and decided to put on her strappy, black lingerie. She toed on her velvet stilettos and leaned against the wall in a seductive fashion, practicing her coyest smile.

A light knock could be heard through the door. “Come in,” she said in a sultry voice. Her expression faltered slightly as a woman walked in the room.

Crowley felt like the air had been punched from her lungs. The woman was startlingly gorgeous. Everything about her seemed soft, from her white blond curls to her voluptuous body. Her cherubic face looked nervous as she took in the sight of Crowley. The redhead stared back at her in awe, mouth slightly open.

The blonde covered her short frame with a knee length tartan skirt and lilac blouse. She looked the same age as Crowley, probably somewhere in her late twenties, but unlike Crowley she appeared to be very prim and proper. 

“Hi,” was all Crowley could think to say.

“Hello, Antonia,” she waved shyly.

“Call me Crowley.” She went by her first name, Antonia, at work. She left Crowley for her life outside the brothel to keep things separate. It felt more business-like and professional. At least, it did until now.

“Okay, Crowley,” she smiled.

Crowley realized the woman was still standing timidly in the doorway and she welcomed her in with a gesturing finger. 

“And what should I call you, angel?” Crowley purred. The woman hesitated for a moment. Some people were embarrassed to pay for sex and wanted to keep their identities secret. Crowley understood the extra desire for secrecy in this case. 

“You don’t have to tell me your real name if you don’t want to, I’m fine calling you angel. It suits you.” She was sitting on the bed now, and Crowley moved closer towards her. 

The woman cleared her throat, “My name is Zira, but I’m fine with angel as well.”

Crowley’s devil red lips curled into a smile. “Sure thing, angel. What can I do for you this fine evening?” She could feel the other woman shaking as she moved a hand up the inside of her plump thigh.

“ I, oh, dear. I’m not quite sure. You see, I...I’ve.. never...” she stammered. 

A literal blushing virgin, and a stunning one at that. This really would be fun. “I could take the reins if you’d like.”

Zira nodded hesitantly, but avoided eye contact. Crowley recognized the emotion- shame. 

“Angel, there’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing here,” she reassured. “I want you to enjoy this, so you need you to relax. I promise you’re in good hands.” Zira’s breath caught when Crowley squeezed her thigh, trying to drive home her point. 

Crowley looked at her appraisingly, holding eye contact as she leaned forward to tuck an errant blonde curl behind Zira’s ear. The touch felt electric. She tilted in to leave a gentle kiss behind her ear, and slowly began working her way down her pale throat. Each scorching kiss earned her a hushed gasp. 

_Apples,_ Crowley thought, _her hair smells like sweet apple blossoms_. 

She decided to ease Zira’s nerves by narrating what she would do next. “I’m going to unbutton your blouse now,” Crowley whispered. She worked through the buttons quickly, excited to see the prize underneath. She took her time brushing her palms along Zira’s shoulders as the shirt slipped off, pooling around her on the bed. Her newly exposed chest was heaving.

Crowley then moved down to let her hands climb up the hem of her skirt, pulling down tan stockings, but not before massaging circles into the blonde's pelvis. Zira’s hips jerked forward. 

“Eager, are we?” Zira flushed at the comment, obviously embarrassed by her visceral response. “I like it, angel,” she said quickly, “Means I’m doing my job right. I just need to finish unwrapping before we _really_ get started.” Crowley peeled each layer off slowly, always placing a kiss on the newly exposed skin. Eventually, Zira was down to a white bra and matching panties. 

Crowley stopped and stared at her in wonder. She was so full and beautiful, she felt like she was ogling the goddess Aphrodite. She wanted to fill her hands with Zira, and drag her hot tongue over white stretch marks that rippled over her rounded hips and heavy breasts.

Zira suddenly crossed her arms self consciously, obscuring Crowley’s view. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I know I’m not much to look at.” 

The comment caught Crowley off guard. “Don’t say that,” she snapped. “You’re the most beautiful thing I've seen all day.” _Or all year. Or in my entire life._

“Don’t feel that you have to reassure me,” she gave a small self deprecating chuckle, “I know what I am.” 

“Angel,” Crowley unhooked the front clasp of Zira’s bra and dragged a slim finger over her sternum and towards her belly button, “I have seen a lot of naked people in my career. Trust me when I say that you are, by far, the most gorgeous I’ve ever come across.” A deliciously pink flush crept across her cheeks, down her neck, and over her torso. 

********

While still holding her gaze, Crowley bent forward to suck on a deliciously pink nipple, swiping her tongue across the tip. Zira squirmed as Crowley let her hands wander greedily. Her skin was so soft and warm. Honestly, when was the last time she’d seen or felt something so beautiful? She hadn’t even gone near Zira’s sex, and Crowley already felt like her own veins were catching fire. 

The redhead reached for a vial of lubricant on the nightstand and coated her fingers. “I’m going to slide a finger inside of you.” 

Unable to speak, the blonde nodded her consent.

The lube was unnecessary. Crowley easily sank her index finger into the warm, wet heat of her. A whimper escaped Zira when she inserted her middle finger as well. 

“I’m going to start moving now,” Crowley said. She could feel her own breaths growing heavier as her fingers curled inside her. 

She glanced up at Zira, who was staring at her affectionately through long, pale lashes as Crowley fucked her with her fingers. 

She moved forward with her mouth and took a moment to inhale her intoxicatingly heady scent, then she began gently sucking. 

Legs twitching, Zira released a deep moan and her head fell back. Crowley could feel the space between her own thighs grow hot at the sound of it. 

“Oh dear, darling,” she panted. The endearments only spurred Crowley on, fingers fucking her harder as she sucked more desperately. 

“Yes!” she exclaimed loudly at the new pace. “Please, gorgeous, please.” Her thighs were trembling. “Oh, oh, ah, Cro--,” the rest of her words were garbled. Crowley wondered if she was the only person to see her so undone. All too soon, Zira released a sob as her body tensed around her. 

********

Crowley moved back while Zira’s breathing level out. She didn’t want to overstimulate her. Instead she sat at the foot of the bed, feeling flushed, and wondering if it would be in bad taste to masturbate. Some clients requested it, but she didn’t want to upset Zira or scare her away.

The angel propped herself up onto her elbows. 

“How are you feeling?” Crowley inquired.

“Like I’m alive for the first time in my life. Thank you, Crowley. Thank you so much.” Her smile was practically blinding. “I’d like to..uh.. _service_ you in return. If that’s alright. You can say no if you don't want to,” she added hastily, “I’d like for your, ah, needs to be met as well.”

 _Yes. Fuck yes, please._ When was the last time a client had said that? Never. It was an easy statistic to remember. “Sure angel,” she said, trying to keep her voice seductive and calm. “Whatever makes you happy.” 

Crowley could feel her toes curling as she arched her back. It didn’t take long. Crowley was already horny as hell. 

“Oh, fuck, Zira. Fuck fuck _fuck_.” She usually put on a show for her clients when she was coming (or at least pretending to), but none of this was theatrics. Was this really Zira’s first time with someone? If so, she was a quick study. 

Her pleasure came to a head and Crowley cried out. When her senses returned, she realized a blanket had been draped over her. Zira was wrapped under it with her, their noses almost touching. Zira’s smile had relaxed from something nervous into a look of pure bliss, and something in Crowley's chest bloomed.

She knew she shouldn’t have _feelings_ for a client, but it was hard not to imagine waking up to something like this every morning. 

Zira moved her hand to push back some of the sweaty hair that stuck to Crowley’s forehead.“I’m sorry darling, but it appears that I’ve tousled your beautiful braid. Would you mind terribly if I replaited it for you?” 

Crowley ignored the thrill she felt at the word darling. “Not at all. You have me for the hour, we can do whatever you’d like. Hell, you could read to me if you wanted.” 

They were both still naked. Zira moved to put on her clothes, but Crowley swatted her hand. “Hair first,” she said indignantly.

She undid the braid obediently, separating her hair gently. Zira handled her so delicately, it all felt strangely intimate. Her nails ran across her scalp, causing Crowley’s entire body to shiver. 

“So, how has your day been?” Zira asked.

Crowley huffed a laugh. “I know you’re the polite type angel, but don’t feel like you need to make small talk with me. This experience is all about you and your pleasure.” 

“I know that. I’d just want to know the person who took my virginity better.”

That was fair. “Anything you’d like to know in particular?”

“Whatever you're comfortable telling me. No pressure, though. You have the right to your privacy, of course.”

How much should she tell her? Crowley kept her home life strictly private, but she could share a few harmless details. 

She shrugged casually. “I dunno. Got a roommate, a cat, and some plants. Enjoy long walks on the beach, black coffee, and stuff like that.”

“May I inquire about the tattoo?” She dragged a soft finger over the snake on Crowley's shoulder. “They aren’t very common here.” 

“Act of teenage rebellion. I’d like to think I’m not very common either.”

Zira giggled. “I must agree with you on that.” The blonde continued gently stroking the ink on her skin, and Crowley could feel herself grow needy again. 

She gave her client a lopsided grin, “There’s something else you should know about me. I really want to have another go with you.”

“Good Lord, I was hoping you’d ask.”

After Zira had found her pleasure two more times (and Crowley once more) their hour had run over. Zira began dressing and Crowley watched her from the double bed, playing with a feather that had come off a pillow. 

“I’m surprised that someone like you came here.”

Zira turned around, her eyes bore a somewhat hurt and confused expression, “Someone like me?” She shook her head. “I’m assuming you don’t get many women then.” 

“Not really, but I meant no offense by the comment. Trust me, I’m _very_ glad you did come in. I just thought you’d have a multitude of partners to choose from.”

Another blush crept up Zira’s cheeks. “Well, the partners I’ve wanted have always been…. out of reach for me.” She paused, “Can _you_ understand that?” Crowley knew exactly what the blonde was implying. 

“Yes, angel. I can”

Zira gave a sad smile. “Well, I had a lovely evening Crowley. Truly, thank you.”

“Does that mean you’ll come back?” Her voice held more excitement than she meant it to. 

“I’m afraid not, but I’m grateful all the same. Enjoy your night.”

And with that, a literal angel walked out her door. Crowley began redressing, but she felt a sinking in her stomach. So she had a little crush, big deal. She was sure it would pass in a few days...hopefully. Regardless, Crowley knew what she was painting when she returned to her flat.


	2. Repeat Customer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All explicit sexual descriptions start and end with a ” ******** ”. Feel free to skip over them if it makes you uncomfortable.

Crowley strutted out of her bedroom the next morning and sauntered toward the kitchen. She could smell that Anathema had already brewed a pot of coffee. Crowley poured herself a mug, smiling at her memories of the previous night. 

“You look awfully happy this morning,” Anathema commented. She had looked up from her newspaper and was eyeing her from their kitchen table.

“Not possible,” Crowley grunted, “Haven't had my coffee yet.”

“Sorry, I must have misinterpreted that ridiculous smile on your face,” she winked. “By the way, Newt’s coming over today.”

Crowley groaned. “Will I ever go one bloody day without seeing your fiance?” Newt was nice enough, but she was beginning to feel like she had a third roommate. “I should start charging him rent with how often he hangs around here.” 

Anathema tutted. “He likes you. He only talks to you so much because he wants to make a good impression.”

“He should know by now the best way to make a good impression is to leave me alone.” 

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” Anathema said. She greeted her fiance with a kiss before welcoming him inside.

“Morning, Crowley!” He shot her a smile that should be illegal before 8 am. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know me. Always dandy and tickety-boo.” 

“Glad to hear it!” Newt said, oblivious to the sarcasm. He had moved into the front room, where Crowley had left her easel from the night before. She needed her first layer of paint to dry so she could go back and add more detail. He cocked his head to the side while staring at the image. “Is that a flower?” 

“Sure, why not,” Crowley snorted. 

“Well, I’d love to have something like that.”

“I’m sure you would,” Crowley tittered while Anathema smacked her arm. _Be nice_ she mouthed. 

Crowley rolled her eyes. “So what are you lovebirds up to today?”

“Sampling some cakes for the wedding. You should come with us!” Newt offered. 

Crowley played with the idea for a moment before deciding she didn’t want to spend the day as a third wheel. “Pass. I should probably stay here to keep Francis company. She’s been especially moody lately.” 

“The cat will be fine. C’mon Crowley. The baker is very cute,” Anathema insisted.

“And she's single!” Newt added. That was something Crowley liked about Newt, he was progressive in all the right ways. Guess you had to be when you’re fiance was a bisexual SJW. 

“I don’t need you lot setting me up on dates. M’not looking for a relationship anyways.”

“You don’t have to be. This is just a chance for you to get out of the house and score some free food. Please, for me?” She took off her glasses and shot her puppy dog eyes. “As the maid of honor, I think it’s your duty.” 

“Fine! But just to make sure you don’t pick a flavor like carrot.”

“I like carrot cake,” Newt protested. 

“Satan below, I guess I really do have to come along.” 

Newt drove them to the bakery in the ugliest car Crowley had ever seen. Crowley had a perfectly fine Bentley she’d restored herself, but her driving style was ‘too unconventional’ for them, whatever that meant.

The samples were already made when they arrived. They were told to just sit down and enjoy themselves. The baker was cute, a tall brunette with a slim figure, but she was painfully straight. She talked Crowley’s ear off about her own dream wedding and dream man. It was fine, Crowley wasn’t that interested in her anyways. The woman wasn’t really her type. 

Of course, that begged the question: what was her type? Her thoughts kept drifting back to soft blonde hair, a kind smile, a gentle voice… No! Zira said she wouldn’t be coming back. _You only like her because she left a big tip,_ she kept telling herself, _you would have had fun with any woman that walked through that door_. She knew she was lying. 

“Earth to Crowley!” Anathema was waving a hand in front of her face.

“Hmmm?”

“I asked how you like the lemon curd icing.”

She gave a noncommittal shrug. “S’fine. Better than the vanilla bean.” 

“I agree with you on that.” She took her fork, scooped up some icing, and brought it to Newt’s lips in a disgustingly tender display of affection.

It was more than Crowley’s cold, pining heart could take. “I think that’s enough food for me.”

“But you’ve hardly tried anything!”

“Well, I’ve got places to be. Azaleas are coming into season, thought I would grab one for my studio.”

“Because you need even more plants for your forest?”

“Just giving you one more reason to move out with your dreamboat.” Even as Crowley joked, she felt her gut twist. As much as she needled Anathema, she would miss having her as a roommate. Her plants were never as sympathetic when she griped about a bad day at work. 

“Do your best to only buy only one this time.”

Crowley waved at her vaguely and left. After picking up three plants and some cat treats for Francis, she returned home. 

She sat in her room and definitely did _not_ think about curling up with a gorgeous blonde. 

-

Zira had said she wouldn’t be returning, but that didn’t stop the kernel of hope Crowley felt in her chest every time Dagon knocked on her door. Without fail, it was always a random John looking to get sucked off. 

It had already been two weeks. A regular would have come back by now. Crowley had packed up her things and was ready to leave. It was Friday night, and her big plans consisted of eating takeout and watching an I Love Lucy rerun.

Dagon stopped her in the hallway before she walked out. “I need you to take one more.”

Crowley groaned. “No. My shift just ended. Get someone else to cover.”

“Sorry, she specifically requested you.”

Crowley’s heart stopped. “She?”

“Yeah. Same girl as last time. Already offered a whopper of a tip.”

_She came back._

“Send her in,” Crowley said eagerly. “Wait! Give me five minutes to get ready first.” She decided to change into something red this time, it always clashed fantastically with her hair. She fished her makeup bag out of her purse and hurriedly reapplied some in the vanity mirror. She took her hair down and shook it out. Maybe, if she was lucky, Zira would braid it again. 

To her immense pleasure, Zira walked through the door minutes later. “Angel,” Crowley cooed, “I thought you said you wouldn’t be coming back to visit.”

Zira looked at her sheepishly. “I’m surprised you remember you me.”

“How could I forget a smile like that?” she said smoothly. Also, how could she forget the person she’d thought about constantly for the last two weeks? 

“Yes, well,” she blushed, “I paid for two hours tonight. I hope that’s alright.”

Crowley could do a cartwheel. Two full hours! “Why don’t you take a seat and I can show you just how ‘alright’ it is.” 

This evening, the angel wore a tartan dress with a matching pink pillbox hat. Crowley couldn’t wait to pull it off her. Her body was just as beautiful and full as she remembered, maybe even moreso. The zipped whined loudly as Crowley pulled it down, but she couldn’t hear anything over the sound of her erratic heartbeat. 

Zira’s undergarments had graduated from white cotton to black silk. 

“I see you have a new get up,” Crowley said, gesturing at her lingerie. Her own voice sounded breathy in her ears. _It’s just underwear, calm down pervert_.

“Yes, I purchased them this week. Do you... do you like them?” She asked tentatively.

“Yes, but I’d like them better on the floor.” 

Zira’s cheeks turned crimson. “Well, you had better take them off then.” The assertiveness in her tone _did something_ to Crowley, who leaned forward. 

********

All of Zira’s self-assuredness disappeared when Crowley pulled down her panties with her teeth. She stroked the inside of her dimpled thighs with feather light touches, leaving searing kisses in their place as she moved towards the delicate folds between her legs. Exploring each of them carefully with slender fingers. 

The blonde was biting her lip to keep from crying out. She was holding back, not ready to lose control just yet. Crowley was determined to change that as she buried her face in coarse, dark blonde curls. A guttural sound escaped Zira’s parted lips and her body spasmed. The noise made Crowley skin broil. 

It had barely been five minutes and Zira was already slick for her, Crowley could feel it on her chin. Crowley moved her face downward. She was now lapping at her wetness like a starving man, savouring the heady taste of her. She was desperate for more, and stuck her tongue inside her opening. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this good, this alive. 

“Crowley!” Zira shrieked.

Her mouth continued working as she moved the pad of her thumb in tight, clockwise circles around her hard pink flesh. The bundle of nerves sent shockwaves through every part of Zira’s body. In her ecstasy, she grabbed Crowley’s hair and pulled, causing goose flesh to crawl down her spine. _Fuck_. 

She was completely unraveled and it was all thanks to Crowley. Making such a proper lady fall apart in her arms, with her mouth, was pushing Crowley towards the edge. She knew she could also come undone with just a touch. 

With another yank, Crowley could feel Zira’s muscles lock. She cried out her partner's name as she came. 

It took a few moments for her to come back to herself but, just like their last session, Zira was certain to make sure her lover’s needs were also met. 

********

After four more rounds and a combined total of five orgasms, they had half an hour left together. Crowley was completely blissed out, but utterly exhausted. Zira appeared to feel the same way. The blonde rolled over towards the side of the bed.

“Not getting dressed, I hope.”

“No, I know better than that,” Zira said excitedly, “I actually brought some books.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at her. “Why?”

“Oh,” Zira’s smile faded, “Last time you said I could read to you if I wanted. Obviously you were kidding. I’m sorry, I’m a fool for not picking up on what was obviously a joke.”

“No!” Crowley said louder than she had meant to. “That sounds great, really.”

“You mean it?”

“Honestly, can’t think of anything better.” 

“Alright then, why don’t you help me pick one out.” She set four novels in front of her: East of Eden, Lord of the Flies, The Portrait of Dorian Gray, and Pride and Prejudice. 

“Well I just finished East of Eden a few weeks ago, so that’s out.”

“Really?”

“Oi, don’t sound so surprised. You think us whores are illiterate?”

Zira looked mortified. “No! I didn’t mean to imply,” she began, but then she saw Crowley’s smug face. She pushed her gently, “Oh, you demon. Tell me, what did you think?”

“I think that Steinbeck understands the human condition better than any author I’ve read.”

“How do you mean?”

Crowley scratched the back of her neck, searching for the right words. “I dunno. Each person does their best to navigate between good and evil, but it’s always a struggle. We aren’t inherently better or worse because the people who came before us. Sure, our ancestors may have made things harder or easier, but we ultimately get to choose who we are, and it’s hard for some people to realize that.” 

“Well, the whole thing is a religious allegory. It makes sense that free will would be a large theme.”

“But does religion really promote free will?”

Zira looked taken aback. “How would it not? We choose if we want to be good worshipers. We have a decision in the great plan as to whether we pick to be good or evil.”

“Angel, I spent a lot of time in church as a kid and I used to get in trouble for just asking questions! I was always taught to just keep my head down and obey. I felt like I never had a choice in anything. Someone else was always in control, telling me who and what I should be. Can’t tell you how many parishioners told me I needed to find a good Christian man, become a homemaker, and sire a gaggle of kids. It’s what's pushed on women. If you ask me, modern religion is the antithesis of self determinism.” 

Crowley paused from her ramblings to gauge her partner's reaction. Zira looked uneasy, and Crowley noticed she was pulling at a silver chain on her neck. She hadn’t noticed before that it was attached to a miniature crucifix. 

_She’s still religious_. “Shit, sorry. I’ve offended you.”

“No, quite the opposite. Dear, you’re stimulating to talk to. Has anyone ever told you how clever you are?”

Crowley’s ears turned pink at the compliment, “People usually don’t feel the need to point out the obvious.”

“Is that so?” She said dryly. “Regardless, I find your perspective refreshing. It’s been quite some time since I’ve found myself so engaged in a conversation. Most people in my life aren’t interested in literature.”

“Now you have at least one person that is. Guess I’m good for more than just sex, huh?” she winked. _What the fuck was she saying?_ Flirting was part of the job, but that was a bit much.

To her surprise, Zira was smiling at her. “Yes, I suppose you are.” 

Crowley decided to change the subject before she said something else ridiculous. “The only one I haven’t read is Lord of the Flies.”

“This is actually the only one I haven’t read either, with it being so newly published. I heard it delves into men being predisposed to savagery.”

“What? Men, making poor decisions?” Crowley pretended to clutch a string of pearls. “Never.” 

Zira giggled, tucked her waist under the covers, and patted her lap; signaling Crowley to rest her head there. She did, and listened to Zira’s soft voice while she gently played with her hair.

Too soon, their time was up. Zira glanced up at the clock. “Goodness me, where does the time go?” 

Crowley reluctantly lifted her head and Zira moved to grab her things off the floor.

“You know, I can stay later if you want. You’re my last client, and I heard you tipped well. Least I could do is give you another half hour.”

“No, no, I’ll be expected back home soon. Thank you again for another wonderful evening, darling.” _Darling._

She dressed hastily, then stopped in the doorway. “Maybe,” she hesitated, “If you’re amiable, we could make this a regular thing. I could book you in two hour increments again. Do you always work Friday evenings?” 

“Yes,” that was a lie, but they always needed people to pick up the shift. Dagon would be thrilled if she volunteered. 

“Same time?”

“If it works for you.”

The moment felt charged, until it was broken with the loud rumbling of Crowley’s stomach.

“Dear me, you’d better go get yourself something to eat.”

“M’fine,” she said, embarrassed. “Usually not a big eater anyways. Fridays are always hectic here, never have time for a dinner break.” 

“Well, just make sure you're taking care of yourself,” Zira slipped on her low, tan heels. “I want to make sure you keep your energy up.” She shot Crowley a wink and left. 

Crowley felt a flutter in her chest every time she thought about Friday. She mentally chastised herself. She needed to stay detached. Zira was just paying for a service, one that Crowley offered well. Thinking it was anything more would be reckless. 

Of course, Crowley knew she was a goner when Zira brought her a container of biscuits the following week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think or what you’d like to see! Next chapter should hopefully be posted by Tuesday :)


	3. I Enjoyed It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a brief sexual description in this chapter. It will still start and end with a ******** it you’d like to skip it.

“I really shouldn’t eat on the job, angel.”

“Oh please. You’ve been doing it for the last two months, why stop now?” 

“Because I think I’ve gained about 3 kg since you’ve started visiting me!”

Zira shot her an indignant look. “I won’t apologize for making sure you are well cared for. Anyways, your physique could make Dovima jealous. I don’t think some jaffa cakes are going to change that.” 

Zira had been bringing her baked goods since she found out Crowley didn’t get a dinner break on Fridays. They usually stopped to enjoy the sweets together after participating in their _customary greeting_. 

“Actually, I could probably use the extra weight. There was a man here last week that said my tits looked like mosquito bites! Can you believe that?” Crowley was well aware she was all sharp angles, unlike the full and seductive muse sitting before her. She didn’t need some wanker reminding her she was skin and bones. 

She expected Zira to scoff and roll her eyes, but her expression went dark. Crowley began to worry. Did Zira care about her weight? Did she agree with the man? _Why wasn’t she saying anything?_ A few moments passed before Zira began to speak, her tone was dangerous. 

“That man is an utter fool who is not worth the oxygen he breathes. He is a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle that does not deserve to kiss the ground you walk on.” Crowley tried to school her expression away from shock. She had expected Zira to say something along the lines of ‘you’re fine the way you are’, she hadn’t expected her to quote King Lear or speak with so much passion. 

“Darling,” she continued, “You have the most exquisite breasts I have ever seen.” Both women were still naked, and Zira leaned forward to cup the entirety of her left breast in one hot palm. She rubbed her thumb over the nipple slowly, before taking it into her mouth and sucking. It sent a shiver down Crowley’s spine, and she threw her head back at the sensation. Zira pulled away after a few moments. “I know he’s mistaken because I’ve never tasted a mosquito bite that was so sinfully delicious.” 

Crowley gave her a wicked smile. “You know, funny enough, he said my clit looked like one too.” Zira knew exactly what she was doing, and began moving her way down the other woman’s torso. 

“You’ve spent so much time worshiping my body, I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

*********

Zira began tasting her; eating her out with more hunger and desperation than the long forgotten jaffa cakes. 

Crowley’s hand shot instinctively to Zira’s apple blossom hair, occasionally giving it a tug. Her other hand clenched the mattress with white knuckles. 

She could feel the light scrape of teeth against her clit as Zira licked her. The sensation was so strong it caused her whole body to spasm. She hissed at the intensity of it. 

“Yesss, just like that!”

Zira liked positive feedback and to be reassured when she was doing well. She took the time to learn what Crowley liked. As a result, the sex was absolutely mindblowing. 

Zira removed her mouth, opting for her fingers instead. Some sinking inside her tight heat, some rubbing continuous circles on her. Large blue eyes locked onto her with devastating eagerness. 

“Faster,” Crowley commanded. 

Zira clamored to obey, and began fucking her with more force. Her fingers made an obscene sound in her wetness. “You’re so beautiful like this. You’re so beautiful for me.”

“Just for you angel,” Crowley said through her panting, “ah, fuck, only for you.”

“You like this? You like being with me more than those men?”

“Yes, fuck, of course.”

“Because I treat you better than them. They don’t deserve you. _They_ don’t deserve this.” 

*********

Crowley’s eyes were screwed up tight in concentration. Her thoughts were hazy, distracted by how blessedly good this all felt. “Just you. You’re the o-only one I want t-to do this with,” she breathed. 

Zira pulled back at the comment to stare at her, and Crowley whined as her fingers left her body. “Fuck, Zira you’re going to make me wait for it?”

“There’s something I need to do first.” Before she realized what was happening, Zira had crashed their lips together. Crowley gasped in surprise. It was hot and sweet and tender, and her mouth hurt at the intensity of it, the intimacy of it. A different type of warmth spread through her, one she was scared to name. She felt like she could fly. 

Did Zira know how significant this was? Did she know that she never kissed clients on the mouth? It was cliche, but she needed at least one intimate thing left for outside this building. 

Zira jolted backwards, shamefaced. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Please forgive me.”

Crowley raised herself from the bed and onto her elbows. The blonde was obviously worried, maybe it would be best to play dumb. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Well, I kissed you.”

“S’not against the rules. Never said you couldn’t.”

“I know you never _explicitly_ told me not to, but we haven’t before…” her face was scarlet, “and it’s personal in a different way. I’m sure that’s something you save for your, ah, romantic partner.” 

“Don’t have a partner.”

“Oh?” she said with painfully feigned nonchalance.

_Holy shit she cares that I’m single_. 

“Yeah. Also, I enjoyed it.”

“Really? You don’t have to say that just because I’m paying you. You can tell me if you don’t want me to do it again.”

“I’m not saying that just because you’re paying me,” she looked away, also feigning nonchalance. “Did _you_ like it?” 

Zira’s eyes were shining. “More than anything.” 

The air was heavy with things unsaid, but neither woman dared to speak. Instead, Zira laid back and curled into the crook of Crowley’s arm, planting a kiss on her freckled shoulder as she moved. 

“Would you let me draw you sometime?”

Zira looked at her quizzically, “You draw?” 

“And paint.”

“Why haven’t you told me this before?”

“Dunno,” she said sheepishly. “Never came up." The real answer was that she didn't want to overshare and embarrass herself, but this moment felt safe. "That’s my real passion though. Creating something that's never existed and bringing new beauty into the world, or just getting to share the beauty I see with others… there’s nothing like it.” Crowley’s eyes were bright and excited as she spoke, and Zira was utterly entranced. “M’not half bad either. Been able to sell most of my pieces at a decent price.”

“Then why do you work here?”

“Needed money for my art supplies and bills, and Dagon already worked the front desk here. She’s been a friend since childhood and assured me it was safe and I’d be treated well. Sex work is just a job, I don't like it.” 

Zira said nothing, but Crowley noticed the downward twitch of her lips. _Fuck_. “Except with you, of course,” she added. _Way to go, arsehole_. Crowley pushed forward, trying not to make things worse. “What I mean is, if I could pay my bills with just art I’d quit, but the money here is too good to stop.”

Zira turned her head away from her. “Well, if it means anything, I’d miss you if you did quit.” 

_I’m sure we’d still see each other_ , the words were heavy on her tongue. Would they ever see each other outside this room? She brought her finger to Zira’s chin and tilted her face up towards her. 

“It means everything, angel.” She pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

A question that had been weighing on Crowley’s mind for sometime resurfaced: How was Zira able to afford their nights together? Crowley wanted to ask, but was worried she’d be crossing a line. It wasn’t really her business. It’s not like Zira was her girlfriend. They were just two people that had sex ...and talked about their childhoods… and cooked for each other…and played with each other’s hair….and…..

It was strange. She knew Zira’s favorite books and plays, where she was ticklish, what made her laugh, what made her cry, how she had gotten that scar on her wrist.. but she knew little about her actual day to day life outside this room. Even her last name was a mystery. 

“So, now you know artwork is my passion. What’s your passion?”

“Passion?”

She decided to bite the bullet. “Well, do you have a job?” 

“Yes, I do.” Zira beamed, “I work at a library.”

Crowley smirked. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” How much do librarians make? Was there money in that? There had to be something else. She hesitated before pressing forward, “Do you do… any other work?” 

Crowley immediately regretted pushing the question. Zira seemed to know what she was getting at and her expression became closed off. “No. That is my only job.” She wiggled away from Crowley and stepped off of the bed. “I’m actually working tomorrow morning, so I should probably get going.” 

Crowley glanced over at the clock. It was only 8:15 pm. “Are you sure? You still have another 45 minutes left.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I think it would be best if I left for the night.”

“Alright, just want to make sure you’re getting your money's worth.” She wasn’t going to beg, but she didn’t keep all of the disappointment out of her voice. 

“I always do, dear.” Before leaving, she gave Crowley a peck on top of her head. It had none of the heat or tenderness of the kiss they had shared before.

Well that went down like a lead balloon. 

\----------------------------------------

“I’m a bloody idiot,” Crowley lamented. 

“Stop being such a drama queen. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“You weren’t there! You didn’t see the look on her face. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Anathema waggled her eyebrows, “I know what you were thinking.”

Crowley took a spoonful of her ice cream and flung it at her. “Oi! Are you going to be helpful, or just mock my pain?”

“I’m ready to help,” Newt piped up from the nearby couch. 

“Sorry Newt, but I trust your opinion about as much as a potato’s. I’m here for Ana’s advice.” 

“Hey! I’m engaged aren’t I?” 

“Yes, and I’d love to know how you worked that miracle.” Crowley was glad Newt made her friend happy, but she still resented him. Soon she’d be in this apartment all alone because of _him_. 

“Enough you two,” Anathema cut in. She turned towards Crowley. “So, Angel left a few minutes early. That might have nothing to do with you.”

Crowley shook her head. “I pried when I shouldn’t have. She’s paying for sex with no strings attached. That’s the point of a brothel, isn’t it? You get your rocks off without having to learn the other person’s name.” She could feel herself getting worked up and took a calming breath. “Dunno why I care. S’not like I’m that attached to her either.” 

“Bullshit. Your aura has been turning pink for weeks.” Anathema sharpened her gaze, as if she was trying to stare through her. “There’s something you’re not telling us. There's been a major shift in your fourth chakra since I last saw you.”

“You really think I believe that occult rubbish? I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.” Anathema looked unimpressed. Crowley groaned and covered her face with her hands. “Fine! We kissed… on the mouth.”

“What?!” Anathema said. “Who started it?”

“She did.”

“OH MY GOD HOW DID YOU NOT ALREADY TELL ME THIS.” 

Newt stared at the two women, utterly confused. “Are you not having sex too?”

“She never kisses clients on the mouth. It’s an intimacy thing.”

“Yeah, it’s different,” Crowley tried to explain. “It’s….,” she gave a deep exhale, “sweet.” _Domestic. Tender. Loving._ Ugh, she hated the way she sounded. _Pathetic. Desperate. Lonely._

“Crowley, she obviously likes you!”

“Then why did she run away? Why’d she act like I grew a second head? What if I offend her and make her uncomfortable? What if she doesn’t come back?” 

“I think her issues are more with herself than with you. Do you think it’s possible she might not be as _comfortable_ with her sexuality as you are? Maybe she’s just afraid of what she’s feeling.”

“That’s optimistic. You’re assuming she’s feeling anything.”

“You should ask her out as a friend. She might be more open with you in a non-sexual setting.” 

Crowley sighed. “Maybe I will. I just can’t tell what she’s thinking. The way that she looks at me sometimes I don’t know…” she trailed off. _It’s like I’m precious. It's like I hung the stars._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may have noticed, chapter count has gone from 5 to 6. It will probably stay at 6, but it could change again.


	4. To Go Romancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conversations are had.

To Crowley’s immense relief, Zira returned the following week. She was wearing a silky, white dress that would have resembled angels robes if it hadn’t been so deliciously form fitting. Instead of her excited, bubbly self, she seemed nervous and hesitant upon her arrival. It reminded Crowley of their initial rendezvous over two months ago. 

She decided to start by clearing the air. “Angel, about last week, I’m sorry if…”

Zira gently pressed a manicured finger to her lips, and Crowley’s words died in her throat. “I know what you are going to say, please don’t.” She dropped her hand from Crowley’s mouth and walked further into the room. She pointed at the bag on the floor. “What’s this?” she questioned.

Crowley wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or upset that she wouldn’t be giving the painstaking heartfelt apology she’d written. “Uh, remember when I asked if I could draw you? Totally understandable if that’s not on the table anymore, but those are some of my art supplies.” Was it obvious that this was supposed to be romantic? Was romantic off limits now? She panicked. “You know, just to help practice the human form. I understand if you’d want this to be off the clock, or for me to pay you as a model, with this being educational for me and all.”

“No!” Zira said quickly, all of her earlier awkwardness disappearing. She looked excited. “I’d love to be your model! It will be fun to mix things up. Can I keep what you draw? We’ll say I’m commissioning you for a portrait!” She beamed. 

“Sounds great, angel. Just give me a moment to set up.” Crowley had an excuse to stare at the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, and she was getting paid for it! This had to be illegal. She thanked whatever deities she could think of while asking Zira to disrobe. 

“Oh, will this be a nude portrait?”

“No, you prude,” she teased. “I’ll draw clothes on you. It’ll just be easier to get the lines of you if you’re naked.” It was only half a lie. Alright, maybe three quarters of a lie. “Just stand up straight for me.”

After half an hour, Zira was allowed to sit again. She moved toward Crowley’s easel. “No peeking till it’s finished! Also, this will be more of a sketch than a portrait. Don’t expect any complex shading in under an hour.” 

“I’m sure I’ll be happy with whatever you show me, darling.” 

Crowley furrowed her brow in concentration and continued moving her hands purposefully. Each stroke was dedicated to capturing the woman in front of her, and adding the additional details she had envisioned. She worked until she was pleased with what she was holding. She hoped Zira would be as well. “Are you ready?” she said while turning the sketch pad around.

Zira’s mouth moved as if she was trying to form words, but nothing came out. 

“Do you like it?” Crowley asked, suddenly nervous. She thought it had turned out alright, but she was beginning to doubt herself. Why wasn’t Zira saying anything?

“I’m-- I’m an angel,” she stuttered, not taking her eyes off the drawing. 

“I thought that was already common knowledge,” Crowley quipped. 

“That’s you,” Zira pointed at another figure in black. “I’m sheltering you with my wing.” 

“Yeah.” Crowley scratched the back of her neck. “I hope it’s alright I threw myself in there too.” 

“Alright? Crowley, this is positively stunning. I mean, it’s beautiful in that it’s realistic, but there’s also such a depth of emotion. You managed to convey profound trust and closeness and affection. You made these two creatures who are starkly different from each other find comfort in the other’s company…. I’m truly honored to be in it.” 

Crowley’s brain attempted a coherent response while Zira began speaking again. 

“Have dinner with me.”

“What? Are you being serious? I can’t tell if you’re being serious.” 

“I’m being very serious. Why don’t we go now, I’m feeling rather peckish.”

“I’d love to angel, I really would, but I’m still on the clock.” 

“Yes, I paid for this time,” she said matter of factly. “If Dagon has issues with this then she will have to take them up with me, not you.” 

Crowley loved when Zira took charge like that, and there was no way in hell she was going to miss this opportunity. “Just give me a minute to change.” 

She slid easily out of the lace lingerie she was wearing, and slipped on her black rayon slacks. She buttoned up her white blouse and clasped a large red belt around her thin waist. Zira watched unashamedly the whole time. “Have I lost some of my charm now that I’m modest?” Crowley said, mostly joking. 

Her words snapped Zira out of her reverie, and she began blushing furiously. “On the contrary, after becoming a famous artist you should work on a modeling career. You look phenomenal.” 

Crowley fought her own blush while putting on a pair of dark sunglasses. 

“You’re wearing shades in the evening?”

“I’d rather not have the John’s recognize me when I’m going about my business. I know it’s not the best disguise, but I’d say it works about half the time.” 

They decided on the dimly lit restaurant across from the brothel. “The drinks are fairly priced, and they have the best chips I’ve ever had,” Crowley assured her. They each ordered a glass of house red and a plate of chips to share. Conversation flowed easily between them, and they started discussing the merits of the newest movies at the cinema. 

“I didn’t peg you for a Disney person,” Zira said.

“Eh, my roommate's fiance made me go. I really enjoyed it though.”

“What did you like about it?”

“It made me realize I could make a career out of serenading dogs in an alleyway.” 

Zira coughed as some wine shot out of her nose. “You really are a demon,” she laughed. “I’d love to have your insight the next time I went to watch something.” 

Crowley was about to take her up on what seemed to be an offer, when she felt a heavy hand hit her shoulder. 

“Well, if it ain’t Antonia the tart,” a male voice said. 

She peered up at the source of the voice. “Hastur,” she replied coldly. 

“You’ll have to let me buy you and your pretty friend a drink.” He was now massaging his grimy fingers into her arm.

“No, I don’t think I do,” she said, shrugging him off. She glanced over at Zira, who was adamantly avoiding eye contact. _Shit._

“C’mon, love. Don’t be so uptight. Especially when you’re usually so _flexible_ ,” he said, putting emphasis on the last word.

“You need to leave, Hastur.” _I’m humiliating her. This was a mistake. I’m sure she was already on the fence about me, now she knows she’s too good for me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck._

“So what?” he said. “When I’m not paying you, you think you can ignore me? I hate seeing that pretty mouth be so mean.” 

He moved to grab her face, prompting Zira to stand up from her chair, palms splayed on the table. “Excuse me, sir. But the lady asked you to leave.” Her tone was polite, but there was an edge to it. It almost sounded scary. 

“Lady? Pfffft. You obviously don’t know who you’re with.”

“I do, rather. I agree with her. It would be best for everyone if you left now.”

The man advanced towards Crowley’s angel, moving a grubby finger to poke at her chest in anger. Crowley decided she needed to carry a bat in her purse from now on. Should she grab a barman? She’d done self defense classes, would she be able to fight Hastur on her own?

“And who do you think you are, lady? Getting to boss me around.” 

Zira’s smile turned positively evil as she yanked roughly on Hastur’s tie, surprising everyone with her strength. She pulled his face close to her mouth. “I’ll tell you who I am….” she began whispering. All of the color drained from the man’s face as she pulled away. “So I suggest you get on your way now, Mr. Hastur, and I’m going to ask that you never bother Miss Antonia again.”

“Yes, of course ma’am,” he said in a strangled tone. He was stumbling as he moved quickly out of the restaurant. He didn’t dare glance back at them.

Zira looked away, running her fingers over the fabric of her dress as if nothing had happened.

“ _What_ was that about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me angel, it doesn't suit you.” Zira was entitled to some secrets, but whatever this was seemed important.

“It’s nothing.”

That answer was too frustrating to let it go. “You really don’t want me to know you at all, do you?”

Guilt flashed in Zira’s eyes. “That’s unfair. You’re the one person that..” she trailed off and shook her head. “You can ask me something now. Something else,” she clarified. “How about we go back and forth, like a game. Whatever you ask me, I get to ask you. How does that sound?” 

It sounded great, even if it was evasive. Crowley had a million questions race through her mind, but she decided to start with a softball one. “Fine. What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

“I expected something more personal.”

“I’ll work my way there, but you can actually tell a lot about a person based on their ice cream preferences.”

“Very well then. You’ll think I’m rather boring, but I fancy vanilla bean with a flake.”

“See, that tells me loads about you! You’re not showy or over the top, and you appreciate the simple things in life. A true classic.”

Zira rolled her eyes, but looked pleased. “And what’s your favorite flavor?”

“Strawberry. Matches my hair wonderfully.” She gave it an exaggerated flip, earning her a laugh. She decided to move to a harder question. “When did you realize you liked women?”

Zira flushed. “Like most people in our community, it’s something that’s always been there.” She bit her lip, like she was trying to hold back words. _C’mon angel, you can trust me. Share your story. Have some confidence in me_. “The first time I really knew was with a girl in my class named Maria,” Zira continued. “We were 13 and I thought she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I had read about romance in books before; people were described with sweaty palms, speeding heart rate, an inability to think clearly, but that was the first time I had actually experienced it. I managed to scrape up enough courage to ask her to be my partner on a history project. It nearly gave me a heart attack,” she stopped to giggle. “It wasn’t hard to convince her, I always scored high marks. Most students wanted to partner with me.”

“Nerd,” Crowley said while ruffling her hair affectionately.

“Quite, but I knew it would be the perfect excuse to invite her to my house.” Her smile faltered. “It went well the first few times, but I became greedy. She had been laughing about something, I can’t even remember what, but I leaned in and kissed her. It was like I had no control over my body. To my shock, she kissed back. We were so occupied, neither of us heard the front door opening.”

“What happened?” Crowley asked in a concerned tone. 

“My parents had a fit. They sent her home, obviously, and I was shipped off to a religious boarding school the next week. It was a great school, really. It gave me a far better education than the one I had previously been attending, but I was alone. My parents didn’t even visit for the first six months. When they did, they acted as though nothing had ever happened. We haven’t spoken about it since.” 

“Angel, I’m so sorry. That must have been hard.”

“It is what it is,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I apologize for putting such a damper on the evening. While my parents may have sent me off, I still had a place to live. Some of the people with our romantic preferences are completely abandoned when caught. I know I should be grateful. How about yourself?”

Crowley decided to just answer the question instead of calling Zira’s parents arseholes. “Same as you. I’ve always known I loved women. I experimented with men in my teens, but I never felt anything with them.”

“Is your family supportive?”

“My mum passed away when I was three, so it was just my dad. He tried to raise me in the church to give a sense of family, but it never really stuck. I told him I had a girlfriend when I was 18, and he told me that it was his house and his rules. I couldn’t live with him if I _chose_ to be gay, so I left. We write letters occasionally, but we’re not as close as we used to be.” 

“I’m sorry, dear.” They had already been sitting close together, but Zira still reached across to give her hand a sympathetic squeeze. 

“Like you said, it is what it is. Now, let’s move on to an even deeper, more emotional question: What is your favorite thing about me?” Crowley batted her eyelashes and gave her a cheeky smile. “Take your time, I know you probably have a long list to go over.”

“Ha, your humility of course,” she dryly, but she was already turning pink. “I would have to say that you’re nice.”

“Am not!” Crowley protested.

“Please. No one has ever been as kind and gentle to me as you are. You are patient with me, and listen when I prattle on. I think you’re the only person I’ve met that hasn’t asked me to change who I am.” Her face resembled a tomato as she finished. “You make me feel… happy.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m nice. I refuse to accept that answer.” Her tone remained calm and joking, but her insides were screaming. 

“Fine,” Zira said grumpily. “Then it is your eyes. I’ve never seen such an exquisite shade of liquid honey on anyone before. Your turn.” 

“My favorite thing about me? I think my arse is an absolute stunner.” 

“Foul fiend.”

“In all honesty? I think that you’re just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing.”

“Now really,” Zira tutted.

“Don’t worry, I love that about you.” Zira raised her eyebrows at the comment, but didn’t read too much into it because Zira thought _there’s no possible way she feels it in return_. Conversely, Crowley’s inner monologue consisted of, _AHHHHHHHH_ , followed by, _too close, too close, too close_. 

Crowley quickly moved on to a few more rounds of questioning.

Where’d you go to school? Zira: Bedford College, earning a degree in literature. Crowley: Hard knocks. 

Cat person or dog person? Zira: Had three cats growing up, and was devastated when she left them for boarding school. Crowley: Views Francis as her child.

Favorite card game? Zira: Gin rummy. Crowley: claimed it was poker (even though it’s Uno) 

What makes you angry? Zira: People that dog ear books. Crowley: Pedestrians. 

The evening was getting late, and they were growing more intoxicated. Zira decided to ask a question of her own. “Do you think you’ll continue doing sex work long term?”

“Honestly, I can’t see myself doing it for the next ten months, let alone ten years.” She might actually be able to stop soon based on how much Zira was paying her. 

“Is that so? Pray tell, where do you _want_ to be in ten years? Perhaps a famous art gallery?”

“Don’t need to be famous to be happy. Painting is something I do for me, not for the glory of it. Honestly, when I picture where I want to be in ten years, it’s not sucking up to wealthy gits in a gallery, even though it’d be a riot to get showcased.”

“Where do you picture yourself then, ideally?”

“You’ll laugh at me if I tell you.”

“I’d promise not to, but I’d hate to make a liar of myself.” Zira winked as she took another sip of her wine.

“Remember when I called you a bastard earlier?” Zira gave her a proud smile before Crowley continued. “The South Downs.” 

Zira raised an eyebrow. “That small area by the coast?” 

“Some of the best memories from my childhood were visiting my grandparents there in the summer. I’d love to be in a cottage with huge windows that let in loads of natural light. I would have a great big garden to tend to, and I could just sit out there and paint all day.” She had never told anyone that before, but it felt important to share this with her blonde companion. 

Zira swallowed and gazed downwards. “Do you...do you picture yourself there alone?” She was speaking with that false sense of casualty again, and Crowley picked up on it immediately. How honest should she be? 

“I used to. Now I picture growing vegetables and berry bushes among my flowers. I’d use them to try to, and fail, cooking for a beautiful woman. Even if all the food turned out horribly wrong, I’m sure she’d still be touched by the gesture. We would stay up late into the night drinking wine. She’d be clever, so I’m sure we would be laughing the entire time. I’d be absolutely entranced by every conversation, so I wouldn’t realize the late hour until she pointed it out. 

“On mornings when we’re feeling lazy, I’d lay in bed with her and she would read to me. I’m actually very handy. You don’t know this, but I restored my own car. So I would build a giant bookshelf that wrapped around the entire living room. We’d never run out of books, so she could read in the garden while I painted. So, I do picture myself with someone, and that’s where I want to be in ten years.”

Crowley finally mustered the courage to look at her partner, who was on the verge of tears. “Where would you like to be in ten years?” Crowley asked hopefully. 

“It sounds like you already know,” Zira said with a watery smile. Crowley stretched her arm and laid a shaking hand on top of Zira’s. The blonde laced their fingers together, giving them a tight squeeze. She pulled their intertwined hands towards her lips and kissed the inside of Crowley’s palm. 

She leaned close to Crowley, her sweet breath tickling her ear. “My dear, you have always been so good to me. I’ll always be grateful for you.” She kissed her on the cheek, and Crowley could feel that Zira’s face was wet. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, my dear. I truly hope you get your dream.” She untangled their hands and pulled away. 

“Are you leaving?” 

“Yes, I am. It’s rather late, isn’t it?” 

Crowley looked for a clock. She had been so wrapped up in their conversation that she didn’t realize it was nearly 11pm. “I'll see you next week?” Crowley asked hopefully. “Maybe we could do this again sometime? Have dinner, I mean.”

“I honestly can’t think of anything I would enjoy more.” Zira gave her a small smile and tenderly kissed her lips. “Goodbye Crowley.” 

Crowley realized she had left the drawing in the brothel, but figured Zira could just grab it next week.


	5. Expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y’all are ready for some angst. Also, this is the last time I’ll increase the chapter count …. probably.

“It was a date!”

“You’re reading too much into this,” Crowley protested. 

“And you drew her?!” Anathema continued, ignoring her objections. “You big softie! I didn’t know you were capable of being that cliche.” 

“I still can’t believe you took her to that dingy restaurant,” Newt said. “You’ve been obsessed with Angel for months. I thought you’d at least take her somewhere nice.”

“I have not been obsessed!” Crowley snapped. “You know, I didn’t exactly plan this out! She’s the one that asked me to dinner, it was all last minute.” 

“She what!? Anathema shrieked. “You didn’t tell us _she_ was the one that asked _you_ out!” 

“Honestly, I regret telling you people anything at all,” Crowley said, pressing her palms over her eyes. “You’re just going to get my hopes up.” Of course, it was already too late for Crowley’s hopes. They were sky high. Passed the sky actually, they had shot up into the stars and were cruising by Alpha Centauri.

_It sounds like you already know_ , had been echoing in Crowley’s head ever since the words left Zira’s mouth. She was in just as deep as Crowley; she’d fallen just as hard. Crowley had never believed in the idea of soulmates, how could she? She’s never been in a healthy relationship in her life. But being with Zira… it was like she’d found a piece of herself that she never knew was missing. She finally felt whole. She finally felt happy.

That sexy, intelligent, kind blonde woman wanted a future with her. Whenever Crowley closed her eyes, she couldn’t help but picture a cozy cottage with a sprawling garden, and Zira baking sweets in their kitchen. The image was absolute heaven.

Crowley had brought the drawing back to her apartment and took the time to painstakingly add colors and extra details. She had also purchased a frame and velvet bow to make it look more like a proper gift. Zira had been stunned speechless by it before, she couldn’t wait to see her reaction a second time. 

Friday finally came. She decided to pack her art bag again, just in case. Last week they hadn’t participated in their _usual activities_ due to their impromptu dinner date. Zira might want to spend the entire session making up for lost time, which was completely fine with Crowley. She just wanted to be prepared if her angel wanted to be drawn again. Regardless, this would be the last time Zira would be paying for an evening with her. Crowley had meant to have that conversation a week ago, but Zira had left the restaurant so abruptly it slipped her mind. 

Crowley was practically jittering with excitement with 7pm rolled around. She was going to ask Zira out on a proper date for the following evening. No slinking around Soho, she was ready to take her somewhere nice. Somewhere she deserved to go. She stood in front of the vanity mirror practicing what she would say. Dearest Zira, you look beautiful tonight, not that you normally don’t. Always a stunner, you. Want to be a stunner out on the town with me? Never fear, I still promise to eat you out, we’d just eat dinner together first. Holy hell that sounded _pathetic_.

Crowley became anxious around 7:15pm. Zira was usually punctual, but it was possible something was just holding her up for the time being. Traffic, maybe some sort of appointment. Crowley didn’t lose total hope until 8:45. _It’s nothing,_ Crowley told herself. Zira has a life outside this building. It makes sense she’d be busy sometimes. They’d catch up next time. 

It wasn’t until Zira had missed their appointment for the third Friday in a row that Crowley flew into a full blown panic. Zira was so proper and courteous, she would have at least sent her a note at this point, right? What if something horrible had happened to her? She could be sick, or in hospital and Crowley would have no way of knowing. _Shit shit shit_.

Dagon handled the payments and bookkeeping for the brothel. They were Crowley’s best bet at getting help. “You have to give me her last name.”

“Ha!” Dagon barked. “Do you think we really take down detailed contact info for customers? Anonymity is the whole point of this place.” 

Crowley dug her nails into her palms, feeling frantic. “I have to know that she’s alright!”

“No you don’t,” Dagon countered. “You can’t go around harassing customers, so drop it. Big B will fire you if they hear you talking like this.”

“I’m not trying to harass her! She’s been coming here faithfully for almost three months, it wouldn’t make sense for her to drop off the face of the Earth!”

Dagon shrugged. “Maybe she ran out of money. I’m sure you’re ready to reach retirement with how much she was paying you. I bet she’s skint by now.”

_Noooooo,_ Crowley thought. Zira would have to realize by now it wasn’t about the money, right? Zira was irrationally insecure.... What if she really thought that was the only reason Crowley had a stake in this? Her heart shriveled at the thought. Crowley had to find her. She had to straighten out any misconceptions Zira might have. She wasn’t going to risk losing the woman she loved over something so trivial, especially when she hadn’t even had the chance to say ‘I love you’ yet! 

Unfortunately, she didn’t even have a last name to go off of. That meant the phone book was out. What did she know about Zira that could help track her down? 

\----------------

_The next morning_

Crowley sauntered into a library for the fourth time that day. She had a routine by now. She would walk between and behind the shelves, looking for blonde curls, before heading to a reference desk. She’d always ask the same thing, “Is there a Zira that works here?” without fail the answers were along the lines of, ‘no’ or ‘is that even a real name?’ or ‘don’t know her, but I’d love to talk about it over coffee’. The audacity.

She felt frantic. How many libraries were in London? How had she waited three weeks to try and find her? What if Zira was hurt? Or what if she was in financial trouble? Should Crowley have brought money along? Fuck! 

She massaged her temples in frustration. Unbidden, thoughts of unbelievably soft, gentle lips drifted into her mind. It wasn’t fair. Why did she have to disappear now? 

This would be the last library she went to today. She needed to be smarter about this. She’d go home and make a map of which libraries she had visited, and the next closest ones she would check. 

She stalked her way through the shelves before approaching a tall, thin man at the reference desk.

“Hi, ‘scuse me, is there a Zira that works here?” Crowley asked.

“Zira? I’m sorry, there’s not.”

Crowley was feeling desperate. “Are you sure? She’s a short, blonde woman if that helps.” _She also has heavenly blue eyes, the sexiest body I’ve ever seen, and exudes the warmth of the sun._

“Wait, do you mean Azirapahle?”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yeah, Ms. Prim and Proper, posh accent, in her late twenties?”

“Yes! That’s the one.”

“Yeah, she should be back in a few minutes. You can wait here in the meantime.” 

Crowley’s heart soared. She had found her! She had found her angel, and her full name was Aziraphale. Crowley laughed to herself. Somehow that made her seem even more angelic.

“So you’re here to see Aziraphale too, Ms....?”

“Antonia,” Crowley supplied. 

Crowley had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she hadn’t realized that a large man had been standing next to her. 

“Gabriel Haven,” he said, shaking her hand. “Aziraphale always takes longer than she needs to with reading time. She started the program herself, so she lets it suck up most of her time.” He leaned towards her conspiratorially. “It’s a waste of time if you ask me. Teaching kids to read is a mother’s duty. They should be staying home reading to their own children, instead of going out and getting jobs.” He said the last sentence as if something particularly nasty had crawled under his nose. 

Of course her angel was off reading to underprivileged children, and of course Crowley would be forced to talk to this twit while she waited for her. “Helping kids she doesn’t even know? What could she possibly be thinking.” 

“Ha,” Gabriel agreed, missing the obvious sarcasm in Crowley's voice. “She probably thinks she can do whatever she wants. She is a Principality.”

“A Principality?” That name sounded familiar. 

“Uh, yeah.” Gabriel was looking at her as if she’d adamantly claimed that the world was ending tomorrow. “As in the car manufacturers. Did you really not know?”

Crowley shook her head, too stunned to speak. 

“Aziraphale is the only daughter of Eli and Mary Principality. Her brothers are set to earn the largest part of their fortune, but Aziraphale’s trust is nothing to sneeze at.” 

That couldn't possibly be right. There was no way Zira could hide something that big from her. Crowley's mouth felt dry as she started speaking. “If she’s so rich, why does she work here?” 

Gabriel threw up his hands in annoyance. “It’s probably the same reason she got a degree. The woman is determined to a fault. It would be best for everyone if she could live like a normal socialite, you know, host and attend banquets, stuff like that. Instead, she always puts what she wants first, regardless of the greater good,” he said while gesturing towards the backroom of the library. “Do you know, she can’t even be bothered to hold on to half the stuff I give her? I bought her a Chanel coat for Christmas, and she threw it away on the first tramp that said he was cold. Can you believe that?” 

Gabriel took the shocked look on Crowley’s face as a reaction to his story, not finding out the woman she loved belonged to the richest family in the country, if not all of Europe. 

“Don’t worry,” said reassuringly.“I’ll whip her into shape when she belongs to me.”

“What?” For the first time, Crowley looked up and stared at his face. Gabriel was handsome, but in a snobbish sort of way. Crowley hated him.

“Oh yeah, not just the attitude either. I’ve been trying to make her see my personal trainer to lose some weight, but she keeps putting it off. I told her she’ll regret looking so _soft_ in our engagement photos ten years from now.” 

“Engagement photos?”

It was at that moment, Zira turned the corner. Blue eyes locked on to honey ones. A myriad of emotions flickered across Zira’s face in a matter of seconds: confusion, excitement, and finally, shame. Crowley saw a glint of light reflecting off Zira’s hand. It was the largest diamond engagement ring she had ever seen. 

“Crowley?” Zira called out walking towards her. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Just leaving actually.” She couldn’t cry here. Not in front of these strangers. Not in front of Zira. 

“Please let me walk with you,” she was practically sprinting at Crowley now. The panic in her voice was easily discernible. 

Gabriel looked at her impatiently. “Muffin, we have lunch plans today, remember?”

“I’m sorry, Gabriel. We’ll need to reschedule.” 

“No,” Crowley said firmly. “I have things to do anyways. You enjoy your lunch, _Muffin_ ,” she said with all the venom she could muster. “You two make a lovely couple.” She needed to leave now to lick her wounds in private. 

“I’ll at least see you out.” Zira walked her to the door, and leaned in to whisper, “Please let me explain.”

“No need,” Crowley said stiffly. “I think I understand everything just fine.” 

A pained expression wretched its way across Zira’s face. “Crowley, dearest, I’m not sure you do.”

“Don’t call me dearest,” she hissed. “People are honest to the ones they’re dear to.”

Zira grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door, while yelling at Gabriel, “Sorry to cancel on such short notice, I’ll see you this evening!” He just shot her a sour look in reply. 

Zira guided Crowley to a hidden alleyway near the library.

“I’m sorry!” she said wringing her hands. “I know I don’t deserve it, but please let me talk to you for a few minutes.”

“I already told you I understand everything. Prostitutes are no strings attached, remember? All the fucking, no human connection.” Crowley’s eyes were stinging now, but she persisted. “You wanted to play pretend girlfriend. I should have realized that,” she said bitterly. Why did this hurt so much? Most of her clients are cheaters anyways, she should have known better than to think Zira was any different. 

“How can you think that you mean nothing to me? After everything. After our kiss…” she trailed off. 

“Because I haven’t seen you in weeks! And..” Crowley felt like the air was being squeezed out of her lungs, “..and now you're engaged to the world’s biggest pratt!” 

“I told you about my childhood, Crowley. You have no idea the type of pressure my family puts on me. I’m already an old maid at 27. They threatened to disown me if I didn’t accept his engagement! I’d be completely cut off from the world I grew up in!” 

“Listen to yourself!” Crowley spat. “Do you even like that world? It’s forcing you to be something that you're not!” 

Zira hugged her arms around herself in anxiety. Crowley felt a question burning on her own tongue. She was scared to know the answer, but she had to ask it. “Do you love him?”

Zira looked aghast. “Of course not. Gabriel is a family friend, nothing more.” 

She took a step forward and grabbed one of Zira's hands. It took everything in her power to maintain eye contact. “Have you ever been in love before?”

There were a few moments of silence before Zira spoke again, softly. “You know I have.”

“With who?” Crowley asked. Her heart felt like it was on fire. 

“Please, Crowley,” she whispered. “Please, don’t make me say it.” 

Crowley bent down in the dirty alleyway, moving to her knees in supplication. She pressed Zira’s hand against her face. “Angel, please. Tell me who.” Zira’s fingers trembled against her cheek, but she didn’t move to pull away.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Zira was fighting back tears, her voice quavering. “I wasn’t searching for this when I went to that brothel,” she sniffled. 

“But you found it, and that makes this even more beautiful! Our souls are connected, I know you feel it too! The way I’m drawn to you... I’ve never experienced anything like it before.” She stood to take Zira’s cherubic face between her hands, and stared into her blue, tear stained eyes. Her chest was heaving, like her bruised heart was trying to escape through her ribs. _This is it. This might be my last chance._

“Zira, I’m in love with you.”

Zira let out a choked sob, her eyes were screwed shut, and she was shaking her head vehemently. “You don’t love me! I was paying you every time you were with me. You’re-- you’re confused!”

“I know it’s easier for you to tell yourself that, but you know that’s not true. Angel,” she pulled Zira’s hand and placed it over her frantic heart. She needed to feel this. She needed to know that Crowley was serious, that she was committed body and soul. “Leave him. Be with me.”

She opened her eyes, she was openly crying now. “You say that likes it’s so simple.”

“Because it is! Run away with me!” She was pleading now. “Imagine the future you _want_ for yourself. Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m not there!”

Zira opened her mouth several times, but closed it. 

“What do you want Zira!” Crowley was yelling now, but she couldn’t be bothered to stop herself. Every cell in her body was screaming, she should be too. 

“I don’t deserve what I want!” It was the first time Crowley had ever heard her yell before. She took a deep shuddering breath, trying to regain some composure. After some deliberation she spoke slowly, “I’d be cut off from my trust. I couldn’t even take care of us properly. You’d have to keep working at the brothel, and you’d never be able to reach your dream. You deserve that, and you deserve someone that isn’t a coward. I’m sorry I let things get this far, but it’s over.” She dropped Crowley’s thin, cold hands and planted a tender kiss on her cheek. “Goodbye, darling. I really do wish you the best.” 

Crowley felt so numb, she didn’t even watch her walk away. She leaned against the dingy wall of the alleyway and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be from Zira’s POV! It’s already halfway written, so you won’t have to wait long. I promise they’ll get a very happy ending!


	6. A Trust Fund Darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you’re ready for Zira’s POV!

Zira needed to leave. She moved away from the alley as quickly as she could, and eventually wilted against a brick building. Her heart was pounding and she felt like she was on the edge of a panic attack. She desperately tried to recenter herself. 

Fuck fuck fuck _fuck_.

She was a fool. Actually, she was worse than a fool; she was a coward. She closed her eyes to focus on her breathing, but could only picture Crowley. The wounded expression she had worn while kneeling beside her, the heat of her beautiful face against her hands, and the tears leaking from her expressive amber eyes. It was more than Zira could bear. 

To have someone as elegant and charming as Crowley ask to run off together… she didn’t think it was possible. Zira had been completely shocked by the proposition. She knew that discontinuing her trips to the brothel might sting Crowley for a bit, but stopping their rendezvous had been necessary. Zira had revealed too much of herself and her feelings, and she could tell Crowley was getting attached. She supposed Crowley fancied her, but _loved_ her? The idea that Crowley could love her in return had seemed ludicrous. 

Crowley was intelligent, beautiful, and funny. Zira was sure that Crowley would forget about her in no time, but instead Crowley had cared enough to track her down and spoken to her in a way that few people dared to. 

Zira took a few more shuddering breaths until her breathing eventually evened out. The air was cool and humid, as if rain was expected. _How fitting_ , she thought to herself. 

She needed to return home to clear her head. She walked towards the library. She would grab her purse and coat, and let her manager know she was taking a sick day. Once she got home, she could take a nice, long nap and drown her feelings in vanilla ice cream and gin. 

To Zira’s immense annoyance, Gabriel was still waiting for her by the reference desk. 

“Took you long enough. What was that about?” he asked, sounding extremely put out. He perked up when he noticed Zira’s red rimmed eyes and splotchy face. “Have you been crying? What did that woman say to you?”

“I’m just not feeling well, Gabriel. It was probably something I ate earlier. I need to go home and lay down for a bit.”

He nodded. “That’s a great idea, muffin. Rest is always important. I can reschedule our reservation.” He was smiling, but he couldn’t cover up the annoyance in his voice.

Of course he would _say_ he agreed with her. Gabriel would be a millionaire if he could get Zira down the aisle. Gabriel offered her a ride, but Zira insisted on taking a cab home. “I need to be alone for a bit,” she had said.

After paying her fare, Zira took a few minutes to stand outside the regal manor she had grown up in. She had lived on this enormous estate her entire life. The only time she’d left home was when she had been shipped off to a boarding school for three years. That’s when she learned that life at the manor was comfortable, but conditional. 

She sighed heavily as she pulled on the large brass knocker. “Papa, mother, I’m home early,” she called out. To her surprise, her mother was already by the door, eyeing her shrewdly. Her arms were crossed in displeasure, and she had a cigarette hanging from her mouth. It was a red flag, the woman only smoked when irritated. 

“Hello, Aziraphale. We’ve been expecting you.” She moved to dampen the cigarette. “Gabriel just phoned. He said you were acting strangely when he met you for lunch today. He said that you canceled your date.” 

Of course Gabriel had called her parents. They were always in cahoots with each other. At this point he felt more like a spy than a fiance. 

“Yes, well, I’m feeling under the weather.” She added a cough to drive home her point, but it was utterly unconvincing. 

Without missing a beat, her mother rolled her eyes. “Really dear, don’t act like this isn’t an excuse to miss your father’s work banquet tonight.” 

“Oh, I had forgotten about that,” she answered honestly. Zira had more important things on her mind, like how she had cruelly rejected the only person she had ever loved. Her insides felt like lead. She couldn’t be forced to smile and dance and socialize like a well trained monkey. Not tonight, not after everything that had happened. “I’m not sure if I’m really fit to go. I don’t think I’d be good company for anyone.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that but you're going anyway. We spent a fortune on your gown for the event.” Her mother sighed dramatically. “Imagine how lovely it could have looked if you’d lost some weight.” 

Zira subconsciously wrapped her arms around her soft middle, but her face remained neutral. She was used to the comments by now, but she’d grown spoiled under Crowley’s gaze. Crowley had thought she was beautiful. Crowley was hungry for her body, to the point where she had practically worshiped it. Zira shook her head at the memories of Crowley sucking on her dimpled thighs, and running her wicked tongue over her stretch marks. _Stunning_ , she had said sincerely, _you’re absolutely stunning_. There was no point in reminiscing. Crowley probably hated her by now. 

Zira knew that arguing with her mother would be pointless. Her parents always got their way. Resigned, she trudged towards her bedroom, undressed, and began showering.

She lathered with soap as the scalding water poured over her. She closed her eyes at the sensation and allowed herself to pretend it was a pair of slender, elegant hands running over her body. She harshly pinched one of her nipples between her thumb and forefinger. _Are you going to be good for me?_ she could hear a sultry voice whispering in her ear. _Yes,_ Zira had always answered. She never wanted to disappoint her lover. The spell was broken when she heard a sharp rapping on the bathroom door. 

“Hurry up in there! We’re going to be late if you don’t start dressing soon!” Reluctantly, Zira left the warmth of her shower and moved back to her bedroom where she shivered in the cold air. 

The family tailor had crafted a truly beautiful dress. The deep gold of the fabric brought out the azure of Zira’s eyes, and the contrasting whiteness of her hair. It dipped low enough to show her collarbones and shoulders, while also revealing a hint of cleavage, but flowed down to leave only her ankles exposed. The dress tightened into a bow at her waste that accentuated her hourglass figure. She felt absolutely alluring. 

She adorned her body with a gold ring on her pinky, and diamonds that dripped from her ears and around her neck. She grimaced as she stared at the stone on her left hand. Out of all her jewelry, it was the piece people complimented the most. To Zira, it represented her shiny, gilded cage.

She liberally spread cool cream over her face in an attempt to reduce the puffiness around her eyes. Once she was sure her tear ducts were dry, she called in a maid to apply her makeup and put her hair in hot rollers. 

When everything was finished, she stared pensively at her reflection in the mirror. Zira couldn’t help but compare her look to that of a Disney princess. She wished Crowley were here to see her. She could only imagine the lavish praise she’d be receiving. 

She squared her shoulders and let out a deep breath. She needed to mentally prepare for the evening ahead. She would attend the banquet. She would rub elbows with her parents' elitist friends. She would smile and laugh and compliment them as they made backhanded comments about her having a job, going to university, trying to pursue something for herself. She could hold it together for one night. She was sure she would be _just fine_.

The event hall at the Ritz was nothing short of breath taking. The decorations were flaxen and crimson, and the room seemed to glow in the light of the crystal chandeliers. A small space had been cleared for dancing, as well as a live band. After some tedious socializing, she gave herself a moment to relax against a wall, trying desperately to make herself invisible. 

Zira closed her eyes and swayed to the beat of a well loved song as the band’s tempo slowed. 

_Earth angel, Earth angel, will you be mine? My darling dear, love you all the time._

She jolted when she felt a hand squeeze her shoulder and a soft finger swipe across her cheek. She didn’t even realize she’d been crying. 

Zira was relieved to see that it was Tracy, her aunt, who had approached her. “Aunt Tracy, it’s so lovely to see you! How have you been?” she said while giving her a tight embrace. 

Tracy was the only person who had regularly written to her at boarding school. They had grown close during those years, and they still regularly corresponded with each other. Tracy lived outside of London, so it was always a rare treat to see her in person. 

“I’m just tip-top, Love,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You know me, just out living my wild lifestyle.” She winked. Tracy had inherited a large portion of her grandparents fortune when they passed, but she had turned down a stake in their multi-million dollar company and rejected a proposal from an equally wealthy suitor. She had explained to Zira a long time ago that she had enough to last her to the grave anyway, she may as well be happy until then. 

“How has that Shadwell neighbor of yours been? I don’t understand why you don’t just buy the building and kick him out.”

“Oh, what would be the fun in that?” she smiled. 

Zira tried very hard to listen to her sweet aunt as she kept talking, but the gentle music kept pulling at her attention. 

_I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you._

Tracy could see her niece's eyes become glassy, and she bent down to look at her. “Let's not talk about me for a bit. Zira, love, how are you doing?” 

“Oh you know…, “ Zira started, but she couldn’t finish the sentence. Tracy handed her a handkerchief and she dabbed at her eyes. 

“I’ve always worried about you, dear. You’re so different from the others.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Zira gave a small chuckle. 

Tracy squeezed her shoulder again. “It’s a good thing. You’ve always had a gentle spirit. You handle people with care, but it seems most don’t return the favor.”

“I don’t know, Tracy. I’m afraid I've been quite careless lately.”

_Love you forever, and ever more._

“You seemed so happy in your last few letters. I’ll take it that it wasn’t the engagement?”

Zira shook her head.

_I fell for you, and I knew the vision of your love's loveliness._

“No,” Tracy said, “I didn’t think so. I know you’re different from them in a lot of ways,” she stopped to give Zira a knowing look, “but there’s nothing wrong with that. I hope you know that you have my support. I don’t have any children of my own, and I hope you’re aware that you have a special place in my heart.”

“Thank you, Auntie. You have no idea how much that means to me.” 

_I hope and I pray that someday I'll be the vision of your happiness._  
Zira pulled her aunt in another bone crushing hug, but they were promptly interrupted by a severe looking woman with perfectly coiffed hair. It was Gabriel’s sister, Michael. Michael had never liked her growing up. Zira wouldn’t say she was a bully, but the relationship had been icy until recently. Gabriel and his family were set to benefit greatly from his marriage with Zira. 

“Aziraphale, darling.” Michael leaned forward and gave her a peck on each cheek. “As always, it’s so wonderful to see you again. Have you seen Gabriel yet?” 

“Always a pleasure, Michael. My mother said he’d be arriving later this evening.”

“Yes, of course. We were so thrilled to hear of your engagement,” she said, gesturing between her and her husband. “We can’t wait to welcome you into the Haven family.” 

Zira gave a stiff nod as Michael continued. “Yes, it will be absolutely wonderful. We’re actually having a family reunion at our manor in Kenzington next month. You should join. We sing and play croquet, it’s the definition of joy. Can’t you just picture yourself loving it?”

“No, I can’t.”

Michael laughed awkwardly at her response. “Such a kidder, you. Not a croquet fan?”

“I am not.”

“Well, what do you picture yourself doing for fun then?” Michael’s husband cut in, trying to relieve some of the palpable tension. 

Zira looked over at Tracy, who was smiling at her. She paused and gave a thoughtful look before answering. “Honestly? I picture myself in the South Downs, living in a small cottage with a large garden and well stocked kitchen.”

“Ah, I didn’t realize that you wanted such a quaint life with Gabriel.”

“I don’t. You asked what I picture myself doing for fun. I picture myself making love to an absolutely stunning, tattooed, red-headed woman in said cottage.” 

Michael dropped her glass, and all eyes turned to the breaking noise. 

Her mother was on her in a moment, yanking her away from a horrified looking Michael. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hissed. “Is this your idea of a sick joke? I thought that going to college would make you smart, but you’re making a fool of yourself and all of us!” 

“Yes, I’m lucky enough to be a fool in love.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m going to go see the woman I love. Excuse me,” she said while moving to leave.

Her mother only tightened her grip. “Aziraphale Principality, don’t you dare walk out that door without telling these people you were kidding. If you leave now, you won’t be returning home.”

“I’m sorry mother, but I can’t be bothered to care. I’ll pack up my things tomorrow and be out of your hair.” Zira couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such a lightness in her chest. She turned to face her mother one last time before leaving. “Lovely party, honestly.” 

Zira left the event room, but could hear the sound of feet trailing after her. Tracy was next to her in a moment. “Zira, did you say the South Downs?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a red version of Zira’s dress: https://www.alamy.com/suzy-parker-actress-image157105765.html
> 
> Here’s a link to the 1955 hit song “Earth Angel”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJcGi4-n_Yw


	7. Off Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will wrap up our story and include an epilogue!

Zira was not accustomed to walking in heels, but she managed to climb four flights of stairs wearing them and her gown. Her legs felt unsteady for a number of reasons, but she persisted. It had started raining heavily, but this couldn’t wait. She had been running around for the better part of an evening trying to find her way here. 

She approached a door and noticed a welcome mat that had ' _Go Away_ ' printed on it. This was definitely the right place. She knocked hesitantly. A woman with thick, round spectacles and a flowy dress answered.

“Hi, can I help you?” she asked.

“Uh, yes. I mean, I hope so. I’m looking for Antonia Crowley. Does she reside here?”

“Yeah, she…” Anathema’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh my God- you’re Angel, aren’t you?!” The look of shock was quickly replaced by anger. “Crowley doesn’t need you here,” she spat. “You’ve already said enough to her today. Do you know how many times I’ve seen Crowley cry? Until today, never! She’s never been this upset!”

Zira felt a pang of guilt shoot through her chest at the thought of Crowley crying. “You’ll have to trust me when I say that it was never my intention to hurt her.” Zira did her best to peak around the tall woman and called out, “Crowley! Crowley! Crowley, are you here?”

Zira heard some far off stomping grow louder as someone approached the door, and saw a pale, long fingered hand curl around the edge of the frame, yanking it open.

“What’s going on? Who the bloody hell comes round this time of night--” The words died in her throat as she realized who had come to visit her. 

\--

_Holy shit holy shit holy shit_. Zira had tracked her down, and she was wearing a ball gown! She was completely soaked, and her white curls were plastered to her forehead. Her face was ruddy from exertion, and likely some nerves. Cast in the faint light of the doorway, Crowley immediately upgraded her from angel to goddess. 

Zira looked like she had stepped out of a fairytale, and _of course_ Crowley was wearing fucking sweatpants covered in cheetos dust. “How-- how did you find me here?” 

“I went down to the brothel and Dagon gave me your address.” She tugged on her bare earlobes. “All it cost me was my earrings,” Zira said with a laugh that did nothing to lighten the mood. 

“Why are you here?” Crowley asked, trying not to sound as breathless as she felt. 

Zira was fidgeting with the bow on her dress, the one that was accentuating her delicious curves. It took everything in Crowley’s power to hold eye contact and not let her eyes wander. “I was hoping I could take you up on that offer, if it still stands.” 

“My offer?” Crowley asked, confusedly. _To run away together_ \- the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Crowley had borne her soul when she had asked Zira to run away. She had held her heart in her hands, offering it to Zira, who promptly smacked it aside. She could feel her heart contort inside her ribs. “You broke my heart. I thought I’d lost my best friend forever. How can I trust that you won’t change your mind? What gives you the right--”

“I love you.”

“What?” Crowley gasped. She backed away from the door, completely sure she could be knocked down from the slightest breeze. 

“Antonia Crowley, you have invaded my thoughts almost every moment since we met. I can hardly concentrate on anything anymore because all I can think about is how much I want to be with you. I even dream about you at night.” Zira was fidgeting with her hands, debating whether or not she should reach out. “I know that I can be fussy and indecisive, but there is nothing indecisive about the way I love you because loving you was never a decision. I’ve hoped and prayed my feelings would stop because you terrify me Crowley.” 

Zira’s eyes were shining with unshed tears as she persisted. “I am terrified of how much you mean to me. I’ve _been_ terrified that you would never feel the same way, but I’ve also been terrified that you might actually feel the same way. You’ve asked me what I wanted. Well, I want you! I want the smiles, the sarcasm, the lazy mornings, the sprawling gardens. I want it all with you because nothing feels right when you’re not here.”

“I bore everything to you this morning,” Crowley croaked. “I begged you on my knees. Why couldn’t you say all this then?”

Zira moved down on her own knees, dirtying her expensive golden gown. “I know you have every reason to be hesitant... _but doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar…._ ”

“ _...But never doubt I love_ ,” Crowley finished. 

“I thought you didn’t like Hamlet.” Zira smiled, wiping a tear from her eyes. 

“Nah, I just like the funny ones more.” 

“Will you then? Will you come with me?”

“What about your family? What about everything you said before?”

“Crowley, before you all of the love in my life had been conditional. You have given me a lightness in my soul that I have never experienced before. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, even all the money in the world. I do have a little bit of money in a private bank account from my years at the library. It’s no fortune, but it’s something to live off of. My aunt told me tonight that she has a second home in the South Downs. She said we could stay there. Crowley, we could have it all. Everything you said you wanted; everything I’ve ever wanted! Please, let me spend the rest of my life working towards being worthy of your love.” 

In lieu of an answer, Crowley pulled Zira up from the ground and into a fireman’s carry, and took her to her bedroom. 

_Four Years Later_

Tracy had claimed she owned a second home in the South Downs, but Zira suspected it had been purchased the week before they arrived. 

They had lived there together for four blissful years. Zira found work at an old bookstore, while Crowley sold her paintings and worked part time at a flower shop.

“I’m going to be late for work,” Zira protested weakly. 

“Excuse me, but what happened to your promise of lazing mornings in bed?” 

“Darling, the workout you just gave me could be classified as anything but lazy. Also, if you had your druthers we’d spend every moment of every day in bed together. It’s hardly practical.” 

“And I doubt you’d regret a moment of it,” Crowley said while slipping a hand between her lover’s legs. 

“Oh,” Zira moaned. “You really are a master of temptation.”

“Of course. What else do you expect from the gorgeous demon on your shoulder?”

Zira giggled and buried her nose in her partner's shoulder. “I’ll only be gone a few hours. Maybe this evening I could make it up to you with an apple tart, a bottle of wine, and a promise to pick up where we left off?”

Before Crowley could answer with an emphatic _hell yes_ , the telephone rang. 

“I’ll get it,” Zira declared, standing up. “I wonder if it’s Tracy asking to come for the summer. It was lovely hosting her last year.” Zira was still naked as she moved to the phone. The image made Crowley’s mouth water. Four years of living together and Crowley still felt insatiable around the woman.

“Zira Principality and Antonia Crowley residence,” she chirped. Zira loved saying their names together. 

“M-Mother?” she stammered

“Your mother?” Crowley mouthed. Zira nodded. They hadn’t spoken since the day Zira packed up her things at the manor. Her parents had vowed to never contact her again and sworn to deny her existence. 

“Why are you calling, mother? What’s wrong?”

There were a few moments of tense silence before Zira replied. “You can’t be serious!” Zira shot a look of exasperation to her partner. “Well, it appears that old habits really do die hard!”

Crowley could hear what sounded like yelling on the other end of the line. She wished they had a second phone so she could listen in.

“I need time to think about this....Yes, I’ll need to talk to Crowley first…..No, SHE is my family.” She paused and turned away. “Yes. Yes, I understand. I”ll get back to you soon.”

Zira turned around, looking flushed and nervous. 

“Are you alright, angel? What did they say to you?” Crowley was already searching for her keys and shirt. “I’ll drive to London right now and egg that precious manor if they think they can call just to be nasty!” 

Zira moved back towards the bed and sat down. She gave an audible swallow before she started speaking. “We don’t often speak about my family, so you don’t already know this. I have a cousin called Harriet. We were close as children, but grew apart when I left for university. She has a son, Warlock. No one talks about him because his parentage is sort of a mystery. Harriet is unwed and no one is quite sure who the father is. The family doesn’t draw attention to him because they find him shameful. I guess he’s having some behavior issues lately.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Crowley replied sarcastically. “Honestly, it’s a miracle you turned out as well as you did with how those people treat each other.”

“Well, I did have a guardian demon to help me see the light.” Zira placed a gentle kiss on Crowley’s forehead. “Anyway, with all of the issues Warlock has been having, Harriet is at her wits end. She sent him to live with my parents in an attempt to straighten him out, but that hasn’t seemed to help things. They can’t find a nanny and they don’t want to send him to boarding school because his existence might sully the family reputation. So…” Zira eyed her expectantly. 

“So…?” Crowley replied, not sure where this conversation was going. 

“They want to know if he can live with us.”

“What!?” Crowley squawked. “Those people treated you like a leper for four years. It’d be unfair for them to ask you to run a bake sale, let alone raise a child!” 

“I know it is, dear. But…” She gave a shaky exhale. “I’ve always loved children. We’ve never talked about them for obvious reasons. I mean, the country would never let two unmarried women adopt together, even if we’re more committed than 90% of the people we know.” 

“100%,” Crowley corrected. “And you know I’d marry you if it were legal, right?” 

“Yes, darling. I hope you know by now that the feeling is mutual. That being said, I always pictured myself having children, even when I was a little girl. One of the hardest things to accept about my sexuality was never having children of my own.” 

Crowley tried to suppress a frown. She hated that there were things she could never give her angel. Zira noticed the reaction and quickly clarified, “Of course I would rather have no children than any number with this wrong person, but this could be an opportunity for us. Assuming you want this to. Please don’t feel like you have to say yes. I promise that I will respect your decision either way.”

Crowley had no idea how she felt about it, but it was obviously important to her partner. “How long would it be for?”

“They asked just for the summer, but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it ended up being longer. If we allowed it, it could probably turn into a permanent arrangement. We could send him home at any time, but they would likely have him stay with us until we were unwilling to host him any longer.” 

“That’s assuming the boy wants to stay with us at all.”

“Of course. My parents said they would pay for Warlock’s living expenses, if that makes a difference.” 

“It doesn’t.” It was no surprise Zira’s parents thought this could be fixed with money. “I don’t care about that. We’re not taking a penny from them.” 

“Agreed.”

“How old is he?”

“He turned seven in October.”

“That’s fairly young.”

“I would say so, though it’s probably been a very lonely seven years. Oh, but think of all the children in the village he could play with! This town has been so accepting of us, I’m sure he’d feel so welcome. I could even do my magic act as an introduction!”

“Please don’t. You’ll scare the boy off before he steps through the door. At least butter him up with some of your biscuits first.” Crowley moved to cup Zira’s face in her hands. “It seems like you really want to do this, huh?” 

“Honestly? Yes. We could give him a home with so much love and kindness. We could really make a difference in his life. How do you feel?” 

“I’m open to it for the summer. We’ll see from there.”

Before she knew what was happening, Crowley had been lifted off the ground and was spinning around the room. “Thank you! Thank you my love! I’m so grateful you’re willing to give this a try!” 

Crowley gave her a devilish smile as her hands roamed down her body. “Prove it.” 

Crowley was fuming. “They couldn’t even be bothered to drop the boy off themselves? They had to pay a valet, a total stranger, to take him here instead?”

“It’s incorrigible, but I would expect nothing less. I haven’t seen Warlock since he was an infant. We’re total strangers to him as well.” 

They had had five weeks to prepare the cottage for Warlock’s arrival. Zira had renovated the spare bedroom with a fresh coat of paint and stocked the shelves with E.B. White and C.S. Lewis. Crowley had thoroughly inspected the yard to make sure the last of the stinging nettle had been removed. Many conversations had also taken place during this time. Conversations where Zira thoughtfully listened to her partner’s concerns, and conversation where Crowley made it clear she had only agreed to the summer. At the end of three months, the boy would head back to London. 

Crowley tried to act nonchalant when the day of his arrival came, but she was terrified. She was friendly with the neighborhood kids, but she wasn’t responsible for them. Things with Zira had been surreally perfect for the last four years, what if this buggered everything up? _It’s only three months_ , she kept telling herself. _Zira is practically a superhero, we can handle this._

Still, she was overcome with nerves as a pale boy with long, dark hair stepped out from the car. Crowley leaned against the door frame of the cottage, but Zira had run towards him and was kneeling by him in a moment. 

“You’re Aziraphale?” he asked.

“Yes, but you can call me Zira,” she said warmly. “This is Crowley.” She pointed back towards the cottage. “We’re here to take care of you.” 

“Mr. and Mrs. Principality said you two were best friends and that’s why you live together, but I saw you kissing when I drove up.” 

_Of course Zira’s parents would say that,_ Crowley thought bitterly. 

“Well, Crowley and I are more than friends. We love each other. We’re in a relationship together.” 

“No way!” He protested. “Girls can’t be with girls.”

“Why is that?” Zira asked patiently. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Principality said it’s against the rules.”

Crowley finally decided to speak. “Hmmm... I didn’t take you for a rule follower.”

“I’m not!” Warlock protested, tilting his chin upwards in defiance.

“I guess we have that in common then,” Crowley smirked. 

“You know what else you two have in common,” Zira said, while reaching towards each of them. She moved her hands near their heads with a dramatic flourish. “You both have peppermint candies behind your ears!” A moment of awkward silence ensued. 

“That was a rubbish trick,” Warlock said while popping a candy in his mouth.

“I agree,” Crowley said. “I guess that’s another thing we have in common.” 

To the surprise of both women, Warlock gave a laugh. Overall, Crowley counted the initial meeting as a success.

Warlock had been bounced around from home to home, so it made sense he would be reluctant to grow attached. But over time, having care and unquestioning love heaped upon him, he began to let his guard down. Given the slightest amount of water, even a stubborn seed can grow roots. 

Crowley was helping Zira make pastry dough in the kitchen. The windows were open to let in a warm breeze, and it gave them a complete view of their backyard. Zira moved behind her with flour covered hands and wrapped her arms around her slender hips, pressing a gentle kiss into her neck. After all these years, Crowley was still overwhelmed by the perfection of the moments they shared together. 

She looked out the window. Warlock had been sent to the garden to pick raspberries, but was currently chastising the bush for a leaf spot.

“The summer is nearly over,” Zira whispered in her ear. “Should I contact my parents about arrangements to send him home?” 

Less than a decade ago, Crowley had been detached from everyone. She had been living in a cramped London apartment that she afforded by sleeping with strangers. She had no family she kept in contact with, and had never been in a healthy relationship.

She was now living in a picturesque countryside cottage where she spent her days gardening and painting. She was also living with an angel, _her angel_ , and a young boy who had recently asked if he could call her mum. 

“He’s already home.” 

“I know,” Zira agreed, pressing a kiss into her cheek. 

Crowley started tearing up. She couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to be part of the happiest, most unconventional family in the English countryside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s all folks! Thank you for reading and thank you to those of you that left comments along the way! You helped motivate me throughout this entire process!
> 
> I was nervous no one would be interested in reading a gender-bent story, so I’m very happy that some of you enjoyed it!
> 
> I have another human au I’ll start publishing in a few days, which I’m really excited about. This one will be back to the ineffable husbands, but I’m sure I’ll write the wives again someday :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! All comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. Please feel free to let me know what you think, or what you’d like to see next chapter!


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